Bella pushed the middle-aged chief's wheelchair along the dirt path opened up by the Quileute tribe, heading deeper into the reservation.
"Did something happen to me?"
She guessed this man might have seen something, but she felt nothing out of the ordinary—no premonition, no signs.
Bella had saved someone at the airport, so of course she didn't want to bring disaster into an innocent Native American tribe. Her thinking was simple, maybe even naïve. She wanted to use this tribe as a bridge to try and talk to the so-called "Reaper" that caused the plane crash.
Getting the Reaper to pay with his life? Yeah, not happening. U.S. law wasn't that godlike.
She guessed this "Reaper" might be some ancient god from the Mayans or Aztecs, and this tribe probably had their own guardian spirit or totem too. Maybe if they were all "spiritual beings," they could talk it out. No need for fighting.
"There is something," the middle-aged chief answered briefly, but didn't go deeper into the topic. Instead, he asked, "Bella, do you know the history of our Quileute tribe?"
I know you guys can turn into wolves!
The Quileute were different from the typical idea of werewolves. They were normal humans until stimulated by the presence of vampires, which would awaken their bloodline and allow them to transform into giant wolves.
But in wolf form, they were just wolves. In human form, just people. No in-between like standing upright with a wolf head and fur all over.
Bella figured they were like druids in games—shapeshifting was built into their bloodline.
She hesitated, then said, "Yeah, Jacob said you have a glorious past. You started as a great tribe."
She was being diplomatic. Nobody could argue with that.
The middle-aged chief chuckled. No wonder his son was totally into this girl—she sure knew how to talk.
Polite, good with words, and most importantly, beautiful.
He sighed silently. He'd help if he could. After all, she was the daughter of an old friend and the object of his son's affection.
His tone suddenly became serious. "Your misfortune hasn't passed. Some kind of force, something science can't explain, is still watching you."
Bella felt her heart sink.
"I'll leave tonight. I'll explain everything to Charlie and Jacob," she said firmly.
Billy Black shook his head. "No, child, that's not what I meant."
"The Quileute tribe is small now. There's barely anything left of our ancestors' legacy. What I'm about to tell you, keep it to yourself. Don't even tell Jacob."
"Okay. I won't tell anyone. Not Jacob, not Charlie."
Billy Black reached out and touched a huge tree nearby. "This tree was already tall when my grandfather was young. These are ancient memories. The Quileute's knowledge comes from the Maya Empire. We believe everything has a spirit. We believe the bloodline from our ancestors carries a spirit. You are a spirit. I am a spirit. Even that thing that caused the plane crash—it's a spirit too."
Bella thought hard about what he said. From the sound of it, the chief had no respect at all for the Reaper.
The chief noticed her doubt and explained.
"Our beliefs are different from yours. In our traditions, a god's role often changes. Some tribes still practice 'god-killing' rituals. During ceremonies for new gods, they label outdated or conquered gods on food and eat them. So whether that thing causing crashes is dead or alive, it has nothing to do with the Quileute."
Bella was starting to get it. This Native American belief system was way more complicated than she'd ever studied. Total knowledge gap.
Compared to gods like God, Odin, or Zeus, the ones here were down bad—getting fired left and right. Who could handle that?
Billy Black tapped his head. "Old folks tend to ramble. What I really meant is, the Quileute tribe can't help you. You don't carry our blood. Our ancestral spirits can't reach you. But your ancestors might be able to. You can ask them for help."
Bella stared blankly for a second. That part didn't really make sense.
She hesitated. "But our ancestors were just normal people. No powers or anything."
Billy Black laughed. "They definitely had something. If you're patient enough, I think your ancestors will protect you."
He pulled a cloth bundle from the back of his wheelchair.
"The ritual is simple. But you need to understand your strengths. The ancestral spirits aren't all-powerful. Focus on the present. Don't make blind wishes. You're smart. I believe you'll get through this."
He handed her the bundle and wheeled himself back toward the village.
Back home, Bella opened the bundle. It had very simple items inside.
Some yellow-brown grass seeds—no idea what kind.
A white animal tooth. A few brightly colored pigments.
And a damaged sheet of A4 paper with the steps written clearly, in English—just in case she couldn't understand.
The ritual wasn't complicated. She just needed a quiet place to perform it.
Was there a quiet place in Forks? The Quileute had given her this ritual, so she wouldn't go bother them again. Plus, they had their own ancestral spirits. If she showed up summoning a Swan family ancestor there, that'd be like crashing their party.
Couldn't go north. Couldn't go south either—too many vampires.
In the original timeline, Bella dreamed of becoming a vampire. Now? No way. In the Marvel world, vampires had a pretty low ceiling.
She'd have to do the ritual at home.
She read the instructions twice. Total idiot-proof. No explanation of theory or meaning—just the steps and a few safety tips.
She waited until Charlie left for work and started.
First, she found a small basin and put in some charcoal. Lit it up.
Then she mixed the grass seeds with the paint. This was to be painted on her face. Didn't matter how, just had to get it on there.
Bella looked in the mirror. A little stroke here, a stroke there. Still lots of paint left, so she connected both sides. Ended up looking like Jiraiya in Sage Mode.
Hope this stuff doesn't wreck my skin, she thought. She looked hideous—but hey, staying alive was more important.
She picked up the animal tooth and sliced the center of her palm.
Let the blood drip into the basin.
Then she closed her eyes and quietly waited for the spirit of the Swan family ancestor to answer.
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